


Cup of Vengeance

by Emiline



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Creepy, Dreams, Gen, Hallucinations, Prophecy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-03
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-22 16:56:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emiline/pseuds/Emiline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drink not deeply from the cup of vengeance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cup of Vengeance

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: A disturbing image involving blood.  
> This is set around "Blood on the Scales"/"The Oath", and is a dream/chamallah hallucination similar to that in "Flesh and Bone".  
> Disclaimer: Not my characters, not making money, no copyright infringement intended.

The forest was dark, and familiar. Laura moved her way through cautiously towards a far off patch of light.

She came into a clearing, and there stood Leoben. She tried to turn, but she was rooted to the spot.

“Here,” Leoben said, handing her a wood goblet.

Her hand moved of its own accord to accept the vessel.

“What is it?” she asked.

“The cup of vengeance.”

“I don’t want it,” she protested, but her fingers would not release it from their grip.

“Adama is dead,” he continued gently. “Why have you forsaken your people?”

“No!”

“Look,” he commanded.

Between the two of them stood two open graves. Adama lay in one of them, his uniform immaculate, face grey and lifeless.

Laura shook her head violently.

“You have forsaken them,” he repeated, his voice hard. “You have turned your back on the prophecy, but you cannot escape what is to come. You cannot leave the path of destiny.”

She tore her eyes from the graves. Hera sat comfortably on Leoben’s hip, her arms draped around his neck.

Holding the child, he stretched his other hand towards the ground, palm open.

“This is the shape of things to come.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“See what you have in anger wrought,” he continued, and tipped the chalice over. She tensed, but no liquid fell from it.

“It’s empty,” she said, confused.

“Is it?”

She looked down once more and cried out. In the grave she saw her own body and that of Bill’s, their clothes awash in blood.

“I have seen those who have drunk deeply,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Day after day, night after night. The path of righteousness is difficult, and some fall down. I have seen them falling, falling.”

His eyes locked onto hers.

“I see you, Laura.”


End file.
